Lyuba

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Brandon Sanderson
“I love memories. They are our ballads, our personal foundation myths. But I must acknowledge that memory can be cruel if left unchallenged. Memory is often our only connection to who we used to be. Memories are fossils, the bones left by dead versions of ourselves. More potently, our minds are a hungry audience, craving only the peaks and valleys of experience. The bland erodes, leaving behind the distinctive bits to be remembered again and again. Painful or passionate, surreal or sublime, we cherish those little rocks of peak experience, polishing them with the ever-smoothing touch of recycled proxy living. In so doing—like pagans praying to a sculpted mud figure—we make of our memories the gods which judge our current lives. I love this. Memory may not be the heart of what makes us human, but it’s at least a vital organ.”
Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

Brandon Sanderson
“Enjoy memories, yes, but don't be a slave to who you wish you once had been.”
Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

Brandon Sanderson
“Beyond that, memories have a way of changing on us. Souring or sweetening over time—like a brew we drink, then recreate later by taste, only getting the ingredients mostly right. You can’t taste a memory without tainting it with who you have become.”
Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

Brandon Sanderson
“If bravery is the wind that makes us soar like kites, fear is the string that keeps us from going too far.”
Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

Brandon Sanderson
“Memory is often our only connection to who we used to be. Memories are fossils, the bones left by dead versions of ourselves. More potently, our minds are a hungry audience, craving only the peaks and valleys of experience. The bland erodes, leaving behind the distinctive bits to be remembered again and again. Painful or passionate, surreal or sublime, we cherish those little rocks of peak experience, polishing them with the ever-smoothing touch of recycled proxy living. In so doing—like pagans praying to a sculpted mud figure—we make of our memories the gods which judge our current lives.”
Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea

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